


Thief's Death

by ConvenientAlias



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 17:05:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12635367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: "You have to climb occasionally," Gen's grandfather said. "To give the gods a chance at you."





	Thief's Death

When Gen was very young his grandfather explained it to him. His grandfather, not his mother. Gen's mother was wild and free and didn't believe in old superstitions, but Gen's grandfather was the King's Thief at the time, and he believed many of the ancient legends and traditions had meaning. And while Gen's mother was the one to tell him the ancient stories of the gods and heroes, Gen's grandfather taught him tradition.

Gen's grandfather showed him what to leave at temples and which temples to leave offerings at and how often (although Gen didn't pay a huge amount of attention to that). Gen's grandfather showed him how to pick pockets and how to walk without making sound. He also spent an inordinate amount of time showing Gen how to climb. That puzzled Gen-although it was fun, it was not the most essential skill of a thief-until his grandfather explained.

"You have to climb occasionally," his grandfather said. "To give the gods a chance at you."

Gen, who was about four at the time, made a face. "What does that mean?" To be honest, he didn't even believe in the gods that much-his mother set no stock by them, nor his father, and he saw no reason to veer from their views.

"Thieves always die by falling," Grandfather said in a serious voice. "They belong to Eugenides, and he won't have it any other way. The legends don't explain why Eugenides likes killing people with heights, but apparently he does. It's an honor, in some ways."

Gen nodded, pretending he understood. (Who ever understood what Grandfather said, really?)

"So it's very important to let the gods have a chance to kill you by falling. Otherwise Eugenides might get a touch annoyed. You might find yourself unable to be a successful thief anymore. Or you might suddenly trip over nothing and die cracking your head open on a rock. Better to make your death a little more dramatic. Even falling down the stairs is better than that," Grandfather continued.

Gen wrinkled his nose. "So the only reason we climb is so that Eugenides will have a chance to kill us? That's kind of depressing."

Grandfather laughed at that. He had a wispy laugh, unlike the booming laughs of most of Gen's cousins and uncles and aunts and other relatives. "Don't be ridiculous. The main thing to remember is that we only die by falling, and we only fall if Eugenides drops us. And he's unlikely to drop anything he finds interesting. Remember to be interesting, and you probably won't die anytime soon-and you can climb to great heights with little danger that way. Either way, Eugenides will kill you when he likes. It's all fated."

"Mother would be angry if she heard you," Gen said.

Mother never liked talk of harm coming to Gen. Whenever he came home with bruises and scrapes from fighting with his cousins she would click her tongue and try to persuade him to tell her who did it, that she might visit them with all the vengeance of the court's finest thief. Of course, Gen never did tell her (and most of the time he could persuade Temenus and Stenides to hold their tongues as well). But he knew she was always concerned, and would probably be even more concerned if she heard them talking of Gen's (hopefully far away) death.

Grandfather waved a hand to dismiss the matter. "Your mother knows this just as well as I do, even if she tries to ignore it. She too will fall to her death one day, no matter what she believes."

Gen scowled at Grandfather.

Grandfather smiled patiently at him. "These are the facts of being a thief. So be as reckless as you want when you climb-no amount of care will save you if our god lets go."

* * *

 

Gen's mother died when he was ten.

She fell off the roof after dancing, as she was wont to do. Gen had been talking to his grandfather that night-he was supposed to be asleep, but he rarely did as he was told. He preferred the night anyways and was fast becoming an insomniac, to his mother's amusement and his grandfather's outright delight.

When they heard Gen's mother was dead, they were both shocked, of course. She had danced on the roof a hundred times and more and never slipped before. It was Gen's first taste of the suddenness of death, and he didn't like it. It made him feel numb and empty, and it made his grandfather quiet and sad and his father retreat to his room and refuse to speak to anyone.

Later, when the funeral rites had been said and the pain had eased enough to speak of it, Grandfather said, "Eugenides must have let her go."

Gen did not respond.

"I don't see why-My daughter was certainly never boring. Perhaps this is so that something bigger can play out. One never knows with the gods."

Gen didn't believe in gods. He never had before, and with his mother freshly dead it felt like a betrayal to believe in something she would deny.

Grandfather coughed in the weak but hacking way he sometimes did. When he had his breath back he rasped, "Why would he do that? Why would he take her instead of a boring old man like me?"

* * *

 

Grandfather died falling down the stairs.

It wasn't very dramatic. Those who were present said that his eyes only widened for an instant before he toppled down the entire flight and broke his neck. No one was even sure whether he had tripped on something, or if it was because of how frail his body was becoming.

Of course Gen knew it was just a coincidence. Perhaps thieves did have a tendency to die by falling, but that was because they braved more heights (even if the stairs were hardly dangerous to the general public). There were no gods, not really. The gods were just an excuse to sacrifice and then eat a cow.

(And if he left a pair of gold and onyx earrings at Eugenides' temple after the funeral, well, he was the Queen's Thief now. He was allowed to be capricious.)

* * *

 

The gods were real.

Gen ran gasping through the tunnels with Hamiathes' Gift gripped tight in his hand, fully aware that in minutes the tunnel would flood.

The gods were real!

Eugenides had spoken to him. Eugenides, his god, the god who accepted his offerings at the temple, the god who supposedly listened to his prayers for aid during his various heists. Eugenides, the god who would eventually be his death as well as his life. The god who had let his mother and grandfather fall.

Gen hadn't been thinking about that part when he had seen the gods move, when Eugenides had offered him Hamiathes' Gift. He didn't have time to think about it now, either. The tunnels were filling with water. Aracthus was furious at his invasion, determined that he should not escape. Gen didn't particularly want to drown.

Actually, drowning had never been something he had thought about. Wasn't he supposed to die by falling from great heights? What was with this? Would Eugenides actually allow him to drown?

Now that was a low down thing to do. The least his patron god could offer him was a respectable drop from a cliff!

Of course, it was hard to concentrate on indignation as the tides of the Aracthus overwhelmed Gen, sweeping him forward too fast for him to maintain his balance. But Gen was petulant-as the waters swept him away and he lost consciousness he clung to the thought "It isn't fair..."

When he woke up later, on the banks of the Aracthus, wet but decidedly alive and even still holding Hamiathes' Gift, he felt a little foolish. And a little guilty about losing trust in Eugenides so easily. As if his god would revoke the right to his death to a mere river god so easily. (Though to be fair, Gen had never even believed in the gods until last night, or at least never believed in them as more than a passing fancy, a hope for good luck. He had never actually had that much trust in Eugenides to begin with.)

The magus and Pol and Sophos were all very impressed that Gen had avoided death.

Gen knew he couldn't take much of the credit. And even the fact that he’d been carrying the Hamiathes’ Gift…well, it might have had something to do with things, but not all that much.

* * *

 

Only a few days later, Pol died falling from a cliff.

Clearly Eugenides approved of the man.

* * *

 

(Gen could tell himself as many times as he wished that the sword thrust didn't kill him because he was carrying Hamiathes' Gift to his queen. Sometimes he even justified it that the Gift had been given to him by Eugenides rather than stolen—though that did not feel much like the truth. He didn't want to consider the possibility that Eugenides was just that possessive, just not willing to let his namesake fall yet, and certainly unwilling to allow Eugenides to die of a warlike cause rather than a thieving one.)

* * *

 

In the dungeons under Attolia’s castle Gen thought about what she might do to him. Attolia had so very many ways of killing, after all, and even more ways of punishment that did not require death. Everything from starving people in cages to disembowelment to poison.

Gen thought he could see the simplest answer, though. Hanging would quite suffice. Technically you died of falling, especially if it was done right, the rope measured out perfectly to break your neck as your feet lost their ground. Eugenides himself could not complain about such a death, and truly many thieves had died that way. Not so many Queen’s Thieves, but many thieves. There would be a certain kinship in it, even if it was not exactly grandiose.

Of course, Attolia would not want to accept such an easy punishment. She would want to be harsh. In a case like this especially she would be afraid of being shown to be soft, partial to him because of his age even though he was a threat to the state. He knew her well. She would want to make an example of him. The gods wouldn’t allow that, though. He would never die of starving or beating or torture. Gravity was his only true enemy, no matter how hard others might try to fight him.

So, most likely, the fates would align somehow. Ornon would make a case, perhaps, or other diplomats would try to argue for a quick execution, to get him out of the way as soon as possible. Attolia would take practicality over theatricality. He would hang.

It was a fair way to die. He could accept it. Eddis would be furious, but he had known the risks and taken them anyway. It was like walking on a ledge—he had to give the gods a chance at him, after all. And he liked to think he’d given himself a chance to gain glory as well. So what if he had not won through? He had tried. Now he would fall as all did eventually.

(But he did not fall. Instead, the sword fell. His hand fell. And he remained terribly anchored in his chair, terribly still as the world collapsed around him.)

* * *

 

Years later, he sits on the throne of Attolis.

This is a height, he thinks. He will climb higher if he can. Already they are calling him Annux. Soon everyone will call him that.

Does Eugenides understand this? That he isn’t trying to escape his vocation as thief, not really. He’s trying to steal things that are bigger than ever before, and he still worships. He would drop the whole world at Eugenides’ feet.

Still, it is possible Eugenides does not understand. So he still goes climbing every night that he can. It is not that he wants to die. Really, he’d rather not. But it’s only fair. He would never have gotten this far without the gods, nor could he even live. So when Eugenides chooses to let go of him, he knows he must be willing to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this fic today in an old document. It was unfinished--I'd only written up to the point where Gen got stabbed while carrying Hamiathes' gift, and that clearly wasn't the ending. And once again, rather old. I think I wrote it about three years ago and let it lie instead of finshing it.  
> So I finished it tonight instead of working on my Nanowrimo. And here are some old thoughts on Gen, Eugenides, and what it means to have faith in the gods.


End file.
